Wine Flavored Kisses
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: Penelope has a way to keep Percy's mind off of his exam results.


"I can see it now. Dreadful in Charms," Percy groans.

Penelope rolls her eyes. Over the year, she's gotten used to his little rants during their duties, his constant insecurity. "Well, if you receive Dreadful, I'll undoubtedly receive Troll," she says as they turn the corner.

Percy doesn't seem to hear her. He's so caught up in his own thoughts that he doesn't even stop to confiscate a Fanged Frisbee from a group of Slytherin boys. Penelope frowns, realizing how much his anxiety must be eating him up. He never misses a chance to flaunt his knowledge of the rules, to flash his badge with an authorative smile.

She takes his hand gently in hers. "Come on."

This seems to snap him out of it. "What? But we still have another floor, and- Do they have a Fanged-"

"Come on, Percy," she urges, pulling him along. "Just let it go for a moment."

"Where are we going?"

Penelope doesn't answer. It's probably best that he doesn't know. Now that his attention is caught, he'll go back to trying to keep the rules, and she doesn't want him to stop her.

"Penelope," he says again once they near the underground level. "What are-?"

"Shh!" She places a finger to her lips, checking that no one is coming.

"We are prefects," he says, as though she might have forgotten. "Why are we sneaking around like criminals?"

Penelope tosses him a wink without answering. She approaches the painting of the fruit and tickles the pear.

"The kitchens?" Percy asks. "We've just had lunch. I'm not very hungry."

With a roll of her eyes, she turns the green doorknob, gesturing for him to follow.

"Miss Clearwater!" an elf squeaks, nearly stumbling over his own feet as his rushes to her. "What can Fritz be helping you with today?"

She takes his hand affectionately, offering him a smile. "The usual," she says. "Something that won't be missed."

With a nod of his head, the elf hurries away. Penelope turns to see Percy gaping at her. "What?" she laughs. "Not all prefects are by the book."

"We have a duty to-"

"We have a duty to treating ourselves to a little fun," she says simply. "Only a fool would disagree."

Percy looks like he might argue, but Fritz returns with a bottle of elderflower wine. Penelope takes it from him, smiling broadly. "This will do nicely," she praises. "Thank you, Fritz!"

"Fritz is happy to help Miss Clearwater," he squeaks before bowing and returning to his work.

"Do you often sneak wine from the kitchens?" Percy asks, his brows raised.

"Not often. Maybe a few times a year," she answers, tucking the bottle into her bag.

"Are you aware of how many rules you're breaking?"

She smirks. "There's a quote from a famous Muggle about missing all the fun if you always follow the rules," she says, slipping out the door.

"Penelope, I can't be part of this."

"Sure you can. You've already forgotten about your OWLs, haven't you?" she points out, navigating the corridors and stairs until she finds her favorite hiding spot.

"My- Oh, God. Charms," he grumbles, following her inside and shutting the door. "Maybe a drink wouldn't be so bad."

"Just remember. Do not use alcohol as a coping mechanism," she advises. "Just a little something to take the edge off."

She pops the cork, taking a swig, smiling at the perfect balance of sweet and tart. Percy takes the bottle, sniffing it curiously before drinking.

"You won't tell anyone, will you?" he asks.

"I'd incriminate myself," she reminds him, taking another swallow, deeper this time.

"Not about this. About my anxiety," he says, his blush spreading from cheeks all the way to his ears. "About not thinking I'm good enough."

"Whatever personal demons you have, it's not my place to tell anyone," she says. "But if it helps, I think you're perfect."

Percy laughs, shaking his head. He takes a few more swallows before wiping his forehead. "I'm hardly perfect."

"Doesn't change what I think of you," she whispers, her cheeks heating.

Percy tips his head to the side. "You really think that?"

"By the end of first year, we wondered why you weren't in our House," she laughs. "Clever Percy, we used to call you."

She watches his blush darken and giggles. "I always thought you were cute," she says. "But you always kept to yourself. It's a bit intimidating."

It's his turn to laugh. "I don't think anyone has ever used that word to describe me," he says, setting the half empty bottle aside.

"I don't anymore," she says. "You're smart and funny, clever as can be. You're perfect, Percy Weasley."

She leans in, her heart fluttering. She would never dare to be so bold without a little liquid courage. Her lips find his, and she smiles against them, waiting.

His hands are shaking as they touch her face, curiously exploring from her cheeks to her jaw. He pulls her closer, and when he kisses her, she feels free, safe, and warm.

"We should go," he whispers.

"Yep."

But neither of them move. He kisses her again, and their exams, their duties fade into nothing but a memory.


End file.
